Ivory by Tony Park

Author:Tony Park
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781741985733
Publisher: Pan Macmillan Australia

Carel de Witt had provided a driver and a sleek silver Mercedes to take Jane shopping at Sandton Mall in the afternoon. The preliminary meeting was over and De Witt and his wife were hosting George, Jane, Penny and Robert to a dinner at an expensive French restaurant in Rosebank.

Jane’s heart wasn’t in the shopping expedition. It rarely was. She wasn’t the sort of girl to get excited over shoes or new clothes. What really irked her, however, was George’s insistence that the company would pay for her evening dress. Her luggage was still in Cape Town, impounded on board the Penfold Son, which the South African police had decided was a crime scene as a result of MacGregor’s murder. It was fair enough that the company compensate her in some way, but she didn’t like being treated as George’s partner or dependant. Even though that was what she might very well become.

She let the bleached-blonde sales assistant, a friendly woman who plainly lived for her work, pick out a dress for her. She sensed the woman’s keenness had been aided by her ‘money’s no object’ remark. Stuff it, she thought. The whole expedition to Africa had been one nightmare after another.

‘Shoes as well?’ the woman queried, unable to contain her excitement.

‘Why not?’ Jane shrugged. ‘All I’ve got are flip-flops.’ Carel de Witt had laughed good-naturedly when Jane had shown him her rubber footwear at the commencement of the meeting. She’d explained that she’d bought the first grey business suit she’d seen in Melrose Arch, but had forgotten to buy shoes on her way to the meeting.

She liked the white-haired shipping owner. He, more than George, seemed not to have lost touch with the sea, despite more years in an office than a ship’s bridge. His face and hands were the colour of teak decking and his blue eyes misted when he talked about the fleet he would soon be losing. His hair was unfashionably long – perhaps a sign of a rebellious nature beneath the constraints of family wealth and business – and he was probably one of the few men she knew who could get away with a ponytail and a business suit. Alex’s hair was almost long enough to need an elastic band.

Jane checked her watch. There wouldn’t be time to stop by her hotel room and change. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror in the shop. The sales assistant beamed supportively. She climbed into the stiletto heels and turned. There was no way she would have bought a backless dress in London – it was never warm enough to wear one – but she felt different here in Africa. She wondered if her brush with violence and death in the Indian Ocean had somehow changed her.

‘I’ll take it,’ she said. ‘And the shoes. Don’t bother wrapping them – I’ll wear them.’

‘How late are you for dinner?’

Jane was surprised at the question, and impatient. ‘If I leave now I’ll get there with about fifteen minutes to spare.

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